


A time and Place

by FamRoyalty



Series: Reincarnation Series [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst and Tragedy, College, M/M, Multi, No Happy Endings --we die like men, Reincarnation, You can't possibly think this has a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamRoyalty/pseuds/FamRoyalty
Summary: Au. Alexander Harrison dreams of the future enrollment in Columbia Boarding University, away from the Nevis to the Apple green life of America.That doesn't stop the weird interactions with old souls, or the headaches coming.





	1. Are you Alexander Harrison?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I really wanted to make this a long time ago. I do hope that you enjoy what I written so far.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [REWRITTEN] Alexander of course didn't bother to think twice at the thought of him getting called on, I mean he is just a low-key is student not wanting to involve himself in any drama.

Alexander Harrison is just another college student, low-key and under the radar.

He just needs some directions. The nice lady, with a too white teeth, and too wide smile, told him where to go and how to get there. But he never trust people who smile too much, because that means they have more to hide behind the teeth.

Then again, if all went well, he wouldn't even have to look at people in the eye. This is something to pass time, something to keep his mind from wondering. But the anxiety, it's bunking under his skin and thrashing to go overboard.

" _Debate Club"_

He can't lose too much time, then everyone will turn and look and hate him for interrupting. He should square his shoulders and count but instead he is clearing down his fear and not looking at anyone. 

Behind the crowd, people are handing out labels for everyone to write their names. When the opportunity arose, ' _Alexander Harrison_ ' will be another name lost in the translationm.

 He smiled softly before putting the name tag onto his jacket. No has looked at him funny, turned and snicked behind his back. No, he is the clear and if he keeps his lungs breathing, he can make it out of this in no time.

Finally, _finally_ when the class calmed down enough for the silsbe to set in, the teacher and his advisors walked in. He's too engrossed to notice how the room fell into a comfortable, yet excited, silence as three people entered the room and took their seats. He looked up when he saw who just exactly entered the room, and just exactly _who_ entered is the factor that sucked his oxygen in.

Thomas Jackson, Aaron Brown, and George Walker. They were smart, people didn't like smart, but they drew in the fire and the fun and people just fell in love with them.

They would _hate_ him. He doesn't speak much, but when he does open his mouth, the broken English will keep people at bay. "Welcome to Debate Club people! Now, we'll start to call on people, so you must be prepared to share your opinion."

His name is lost to the translation, he is safe. He's just another face in the crowd, another student not wanting to involve himself in any drama.

Keep your head down and don't look. Because when you stare at someone's soul you will be rewarded with them burning yours.

"Alexander Harrison!" Aaron announced, and looked into the crowd, searching for the face that belonged to the name.

Alexander jerked his head up in surprise and met Aaron's eyes. _Shit. No, no, no, this is wrong, and oh God he can feel the burn of stares in the nape of his neck_ \--

 _Wait_. He was being called on, and he didn't have anything to debate.

"O-Oh no sir, I'm just here to obverse-"

"Don't tell me you came here without any debate on," Thomas, of all people, interrupted him. He recoiled,  _he was making a scene_. Now he was directly in the spotlight, he's going to loose the scholarship or--

"I didn't mean-"

To his surprise, it's George who stepped in, "We picked you, son, so what have you brought to the table?" Alexander _people are staring. People are looking and judging, say something now--_

"Could we bring dinosaurs back from the dead?" He hates himself the moment the words slipped and tumble out of his mouth.

He's too shocked from his idiocy, to see the leaders' eyes, as the class is shitting themselves. Some applauded, but he knew that was for the teacher as they struggle to keep the class settled.

Alexander shrinks into himself and resisted the urge to cover his ears. The guilt is there, swimming in his stomach and intestines. 

 _Get out now!_ Don't make a scene, don't look, just _walk_. Once out of the room, he breathes a sigh of relief. The door seemed to be coming off its hinges because of all the noise; breaking in it down.  He wonders why no one has knocked on the doors to complain.

Alex ran a hand through his hair and walked in the direction of the dorms. He had made an absolute fool of himself in there.

When he got to his room, he groans as the consequences of what he had just done came crashing down on him. He goes inside, closes the door behind him, and is greeted by two empty beds and nothing to do. His roommate is never around, so he had the dorm mostly to himself. In fact, he is pretty sure he wants to get out by how messy, and clumsy he is. 

_Fuck. The hell did I just do?_

Alex just fucked up one of the things he was supposed to do, is what the hell he just did.  Swallow down your anxiety, and focus. His cheap laptop on his desk is calling.

_3:34.pm_

He could definitely finish this in less than an hour. Only if Alex doesnt fuck it up. This is suppose to be the therapy he can't afford, but the words keeps circling, dancing and mocking him as his fingertips break yet another keyword.

And that's how he ended up a couple of hours later, hunched over his desk, drinking cold coffee. He beamed with pride at the twelve-page essay he had just written, yet one look at the clock made him choke in his coffee. It was already 6:00.

Did he really spend all day on this essay? Apparently, yes. He tugged at his hair in annoyance as he ran to the bathroom. He pauses, though, his disgusting oily hair is a mess, and the too-dark eyes are tired and old.

How nasty.

He closed his eyes as he let the warm water trickle down all over his body, and let the steam cloud his thoughts. He always feels relaxed and refreshed whenever he stepped into and out of the water. Like it was washing away all of his problems, if only for a few moments.

And when he stepped outside, he feels his shoulders already relaxing. But the cold air that nipped at his skin was enough to ruin it.

His thoughts started to crowd his mind. He huddled closer onto himself as he thought back to the Debate room. The way others seemed to talk and share their ideas so effortlessly is strange to him, like a faraway island.  _How did they do it? Don't they realize that their actions had consequences?_

He held his messenger bag close to his side as he made his way to the library, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. The old lady, she doesn't kick him, because neither does she care. She has her problems and she doesn't need to hear more, so she lets them use the printer.

He chews at his fingernails, trying to make sure he doesn't look like some creep just standing there looking stupid, when a tap on shoulder jerks him around.

Alex almost drops his papers when he sees all twelve pages of his essay in the hands of Aaron Brown. _Oh god, he's here becuase of what I did_. He's going to tell someone and that someone will tell someone and the cycle will repeat--

"Do these belong to you?" Alexander nods, taking the papers from Aaron's hands. "Before you go, I want to tell you, thank you."

"O-Oh really? For what?" _He's there to kill him, oh shit, this is bad, what did I do_?

"For doing all of us a favor back there! You really made the room easier to breathe in after that." Alex gave a small smile back, and relief flooding through him. So he didn't fuck up.

"Oh, I'm sorry for that I didn't mean for things to be that chaotic, I understand if--" Aaron waved at him, cutting him off, still smiling of course.

"No really, thank you. If you want, you can come to a Sophomore party with me. I want to get people to know you," That was the point where Alex's mind stopped working.

Aaron Brown wanted him to come to a party? With him? This was some messed up dream, but before he knew it his cursed mouth was already moving.

"Y-Yeah! Of course, I would love to come," Aaron took his hand, and he marveled at how soft they felt. Aaron seemed to pick up on his anxiety, and he gave him a reassuring smile. 

Alexander gave a small smile of his own, thinking that maybe Debate Club wouldn't beso bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being re-editing so expect a lot of changes. Inimitable-and-AnOriginal is amazing, like always, came through and put up with my b.s. writing from years ago.
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	2. Drinks and Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander held his breath and nodded as the party reign downstairs. He could see the looks that they were throwing at him, but right now all he needed was to get the hell away from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is a bit rushed as I have to do something later on. Jefferson is coming in this chapter as well as George. Hope you like it so far.

He was never so wrong in his life before. He regrets ever accepting the invitation to this curse party as he almost lost sight of Aaron multiple times through the night. He was far too close to Aaron that he would like to admit but he couldn't risk losing him to the darkness of the party. The music is far too loud, college students jumping and laughing it's a miracle that someone hasn't called the cops yet. 

Alexander held the cup of punch tightly in his hands as Aaron is currently flirting with some girl. It took a lot of persuasion from strangers and a few hours into this, and he was pissed drunk. They talked for most of the time until of course he got a bit too much to drink and ended up upstairs. 

Aaron giggled for the fourth time as the girl walked away, too drunk to notice him anyway. It stung a little, but he chased those thoughts away as he helped Aaron stand up and make their way downstairs.

 

Then he saw them.

It was Jefferson and George, chatting around and not giving mind to what was going on around them. George seemed sober as he was currently chatting with someone, while Jefferson had two cups of whatever in his hands. He gulped and turned around hoping that they wouldn't notice him or the giggling Aaron.

 

But whatever god that was out there didn't give him any mercy as there was a shout from behind.

"Hey, Aaron!"

There wasn't any escaping the full attention of Thomas Jackson as Alex pulled Aaron to stand a bit straight as they turned to meet Thomas. He too seemed to be shocked for Alex to be in some place like this, and George face reflected just that. But drunk Aaron didn't mind the sudden tension that was in the atmosphere. "Hello, Thomas!" Aaron's voice was just as floppy and drunk as his body.

Alexander's mind is going all two hundred miles per hour as George steps up to help the loan that is Aaron Brown. He allowed him to help him carry Aaron upstairs as Thomas was far too uncharacteristically silent. They somehow made it to the bathroom when they spoke up.

"So was it Aaron that dragged you here?" Alex jerked to meet Thomas's face that was given soft features by the lights. He quickly nodded before actually speaking like a human being. 

"A-Ah yeah, he said to get to know people since I don't talk a lot to people," _Oh good Lord_ that sounded as awkward as it did in his mind.

 

Both of them had a look of surprise on their faces as they helped clean up the drunk Aaron. Then the thoughts came in. How could he be here when there was nothing I could do for Aaron than be out of here and into his quiet dorm where he could finally sleep for just a few hours. So he took measures to go own hands. He stood up, much to their surprise and tried to string together a sentence with his list words.

 

"I have to get going, it was a pleasure of seeing you. H-Have a good night," Now he walked out of the bathroom leaving behind the three for their own. But of course, the world would never give him a break.

"Wait for Alexander?" George Walker called from behind and he silently groaned. 

"Yes?" There was an odd look in his eye but he quickly dismissed it. 

"I'm sorry for this night, but I have to ask are you still coming to the debate club right?" Did Alexander think for a second, coming back to a place where probably would turn into a personal hell for him?

"I'm sorry, but talking and speaking out my opinions isn't my thing. I will most likely not make it to the club," George and much to Aaron and Thomas all seemed to help their breath when he spoke those words.

Then Thomas stepped up, "But you are signed as a _member_ , and as a member, you have to attend." Alexander this time was confused. He didn't do such a thing! All he did was obverse and nothing else!

"O-Oh there is a misunderstanding! I'm sure, I was just there to obverse and I wasn't going to be a permanent member, I'm far too worse for that sort of thing," He tried to laugh it off as an awkward moment but apparently that was making it worse as they gasped at him.

Now honestly he didn't know what to do. He already embarrassed and made a fool out of himself more time than any of his life. And in front of his heroes. But now he needed to get the hell away from here. 

 "But can you try to come even without debating, if that's okay with you of course," George stepped up as he offered a kind smile to calm him down. But enough is enough for him for tonight.

Alexander held his breath and nodded as the party reign downstairs. He could see the looks that they were throwing at him, but right now all he needed was to get the hell away from here. When he finally got downstairs the party only got louder and the drinking heavier. When he finally found the door to the outside he never felt so relieved in his life. That too went when he revived the approved letter from the University.

As he walked through the cold air and the music got more muffled as he walked faster away, he began to think. Think about Aaron and then party and the horrible way he introduced himself and probably made a fool out of himself. As he finally reached the dorms he felt so guilty for leaving Aaron alone and drunk in the bathroom of some stranger. When he finally stepped into his dorm he dropped dead on his couch. Guilt now rules his emotions as he thought of ways to make it up to him. 

Then he remembered that he has Aaron's phone number. As quick as the thought came Alex took out his phone and quickly started sending the message.

_'Hey I hope you're alright, I'm sorry for leaving so soon without you'_

Then Alex waited for a response when his eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier until he fought to keep awake. The room felt out of place and he dropped the phone on the table next to him. And soon darkness overcame thoughts.


	3. What a strange case of De javu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander clutched tighly his books as he could hear the people talking from the hallway already. The pit in by stomach won't go away as he already had the shittiest day ever.

The feeling of the rough fabric on his cheek and the stiff of his body, was the one thing that welcomed him into the world. The stiffness wasn't anything compared to what the day had installed.

As he turned to see the time on his clock his body froze when seeing the time.  _6:50 a.m._ He literally had five minutes to get ready. As he ran to the bathroom to fix something that everything, he immediately regretted getting out of the old couch as his mind throbbed with pain.

He couldn't get anything into his stomach as the classes began, with him being five minutes late of course. And then the gods out there made his phone die on his way to the other classes.

_What are we doing again?_

He couldn't focus on anything and every little noise and movement had him more irradiated that he nearly snapped at the professors.

_What's wrong with you?_

And then a flicker of hope arrived by the middle of the day. As he walked towards the food stands on the campus, he heard chatter all around him making his head throbbed with pain. He didn't drink anything last night! 

But all those questions could wait as he eagerly paid for the hamburger in front of him. Usually, he didn't eat what they had, especially this one as they were the cheapest after all. But with the headaches, hunger in his stomach, and his fatigued muscles, that weird looking food looks like heaven.

And then someone knocks into him.

He stood frozen as he realizes what the _hell_ just happened. He looked up to a chiseled freckled face standing in shock in front of him.

"O-Oh god! I'm sorry, I didn't see. ." The guy trailed off, and he was watching him wary if he expected something big to happen. And all of the bottle up with the frustration, and anger was just about to spill to the point where he might even yell. The man seemed to pick up on that, somehow,  he helped Alex gather the ruined food. 

"I swear I didn't mean for this to happen- um, here," He handed Alex his ruin piece of heaven and he saw no other way than to throw it away.

And he could physically feel the pain when he dropped it into the black plastic trash can. He turned back to the man and he was still watching him with that weird expression. Then he made more useless apologizes when he tried to stop him. 

"No it's okay-- I wasn't that hungry anyway," He lied with ease, and all he wanted was for this stranger to get the hell away from him and let him die in peace.

But of course, his body went to betray him by growling so loud that even the freckled man heard it. He could feel the hot redness under his skin rise from his neck as he looked down.

"It's okay, bye," He turned to the exit but before he could taste the freedom the freckled man grabbed his arm, unable to run.

"Wait-- can I repay you by buying you another one? Please?" Alex frowned. Never had a stranger apologize for something so much or had tried to repay like he currently was.

He nodded anyway because _it's free food_ and his body is threatening to revolt and give up on him. The freckled stranger  _beamed_ at that. He dragged him back to the shitty food court and turned to him.

"I'm John Lawrence by the way, what's your name?" Alex's back straightens and looked at the man straight in the eye. 

"My name is Alexander Harrison, it's a pleasure," Alex shook hands with the freckled man-John- and their order their food. He wonder what else they--

_He didn't see the sad smile, and the teary eyes as he looks at the back of the one man who he gave everything for, the man who doesn't remember._

He handed the man the money as he saw how Alex was so reviled to be handed the food. Now, Alex sat down with John on one of the farther tables, talking as they first began apologizing when John started to make a small conversation that turned into something more.

"So what are you studying?" John talked over the munching of his own food as Alex looked at him curiously. He swallowed the food in his mouth.

"Well, I'm practicing Law. What about you?" John smiled but before he could answer Alexander's question when a loud voice from behind interrupted him from answering.  

"John! John!" Both of the men turned around to see a huge man running alongside with another tall man running towards them. He heard John curse under his breath as he saw both men stop instantaneously as they saw who exactly was sitting with John.

They both froze in their spots, just staring at Alex like he was someone in the zoo. He cleared his throat as they both broke off the staring and grinned. The biggest of the pair stepped up, his skin darker than the taller one. 

"Hey John, I didn't see you were having company," He said awkwardly, not taking his eyes off the man-eating the shitty burger that turns out it's pretty okay. Alex shifts a little, ready to introduce himself when John beats him to it. 

"This is Alex Harrison," Alex smiled at the stranger, but this time he noticed how his face visibly fell when those words fell out of John's mouth. The taller man behind them who so far was too silent that Alex almost forgot about him when he stepped up.

 _"Mon Petit lion?"_ Alex turned to face the man, his skin was lighter than the next to him. His puffy hair tied back by a ponytail as Alex confused by his words. 

"I'm sorry what?" Alex had tried to take French classes, and he remembers some of the boring classes but he caught just a word of the man. His dark eyes looking at him, a bit hurt, to be honest, but the man didn't have to be sad about meeting some stranger. 

" _Tu me te souviens pas?"_ Alex again didn't know what the stranger was saying, but this time it was John who saved him. He stepped up, next to Alex and waved at the man. 

"Damn Laf! I know he's cute but that doesn't mean you have to flirt in a different language!" He laughed, alongside with the other previous man. "Laf" seemed to get a grip on reality once more as he watched Alex with curious eyes as he laughed alongside with the two men. 

"I'm sorry, I am Lafayette. But call me Laf," Alex smiled shyly as the other man turned to him as well. He put on a smile as he introduced himself as well.

"Name's Henry Miller, I'm sorry about earlier, it's just you look like someone we used to know," Alex nodded but he still wonders who in the campus looked remotely like him. He jumped a little when both of the men sat side-by-side in the table. He didn't know these people, let alone trust them.

"So what's do you want to be when you leave this place?" Lafayette turned to him, the question in his eyes as Henry slipped from John's drink. Alex turned his attention to the Frenchman and was going on a rant about what he was going to be when another pair of voices interrupted them.

 "Alex?" Standing behind him were two girls, yet they looked so familiar, but he couldn't put his finger in it.

The tallest, a dark-haired girl with pretty eyes, stepped up and seemed to put the other girl behind her. She somehow looked angry, far too much for her to show a stranger, let alone target it. 

"Um, yes?" She looked at him like he just killed her mother, and he as about to ask her what she was looking for when all of the three guys stood a protective barrier around him.

"Angelica! What are you doing here? Have you meet Alex? His name is Alex Harrison," John locked eyes with her's, and she seemed to look physically tired.

She then turned her gaze to him, and it took everything to not to scrim under her gaze. Her gaze looked far too old for someone so young. He wanted to go and run away, his headache was now breaking his head. Far too much noise and a low buzz started to get a bit louder in his ears. But then he remembered his manners.

"Um, hello my name is Alexander Harrison, it's a pleasure," He didn't want to get any closer to the woman that he needed to. But if course his mother had taught him to be a good man and he stood to shake her hand. 

Both of the girls look like they had seen a ghost, paler than he thought to be healthy. He glanced at his clock and thank the Lord he needs to get out of here. He stood up and collected his things. 

"Um, thank you, John, for the lunch. I hope we see each other soon?" He asked awkwardly and John laughed heartwarming. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about earlier. Hope you don't fall behind in those law books," He waved a goodbye to the rest of the group and ran out of the room. Running away ignoring the burning feeling in his mind. And that brings us to now.

Alexander clutched tightly his books as he could hear the people talking from the hallway already. The pit in my stomach won't go away as he already had the shittiest day ever.

Now he faced debate club, something he didn't want to do, yet he was somehow forced to attend. The low buzzing was now at the back of his mind, letting a sigh escape he opened the door and prepared for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you for the Kukos and I do hope you are enjoying this. This chapter will focus not on Alex's past, and his dealing with Reincarnation. With new characters thrown into the mix.
> 
>  
> 
> *Translations:  
> \- "Mon Petit lion"- my little lion  
> -"Tu me te souviens pas?"- you do not remember?
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	4. Debate Team!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex walked into the room of chaos and chatter, yet when he stepped foot into the room all chatter had died down and eyes from every corner of the room was now on him. And that's where he decided, this was a horrible idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm sorry for not coming as earlier as I wished I would like. But as you see on my dashboard then you would know that I'm writing a lot more stories now.This shit is going to be so short.

Alex walked into the room of chaos and chatter, yet when he stepped foot into the room all chatter had died down and eyes from every corner of the room was now on him.

And that's where he decided, this was a horrible idea.

The room was filled with different kids, who by the looks of it were already discussing things before the class has even begun. There was tables arrangement was a bit different from what he was used to, but he'll adapt. He always does. 

So Alex struggled to pick a spot that was far away to not be picked on, but close enough to be seen. Which was hard because the only seats that were available were in the front. Like this was going to help his cause. He took a deep breath as he forced himself to relax as other students filled the room. Then they came.

Thomas Johnson, with another boy he didn't quite recognize. And when they spotted him, he could feel their eyes just burning in his. Thomas of course, went head-on as he strolls to his side, not caring if he was comfortable with that, with the boy still trailing his shadow. 

"Alex! So you finally decided to show your face around here? Have you meet James here?" His eyes turned to the smaller man by his side. He looked surprised by him, like some of the students he meets. Like them, he knew he was being mistaken for someone else because would Alex Harrison ever be recognized?

"Um, no. H-Hi, I'm Alex Harrison. It's a pleasure to meet you," The man still shell-shocked shook his hand that he offered. Alex then gave the man a warm smile, hoping that he would calm down a bit, but instead, he seemed to be more surprised. But before he could point to it, Alex's shoulder was tapped. He turned to face Aaron Brown, he looked a little pale but seemed alright. 

"O-Oh hello Aaron. Are you okay with last night?" Aaron smiled, calming his nerves just a little. But Alex couldn't help but feel guilty as he did leave Aaron alone in the party, even if he did have his friends there for him. 

"Oh, that? I had worse, don't worry I'm fine. But how are you doing? Are you excited for the first debate?" Alex smiled warily, he did, in fact, felt a tingle of excitement, but he couldn't help but feel scared. As he was sure was pretty normal, but as again he was interrupted from speaking his thoughts by the man beside him. He just couldn't catch a break, could he?

"Oh! Aaron, you're not in the throwing up the mood, are you? Certainly not in front of Hamilton here," Alex frowned when he heard the name. He took a look around the room and saw that no one made a move when the name was mention. Maybe it was a nickname? For some reason, that name didn't stay good in his stomach as it felt like his insides were turning at the bare name. 

"Quiet down Thomas," This time it was the man by Thomas's side that said that. He didn't know much about the man, but Thomas and he seemed to know each other quite well as Thomas immediately dropped his act. Aaron moved to his side, a bit closer than he liked, but he felt way too bad to push him away.

Alex now realized something he didn't see before. He hated talking, well not talking but discussing. Debating, anything that was somehow related to disagreeing with each other. He knows it's bad to such thing, he remembers his mother warning quite well. Then as the class seemed to become louder, the head of it all, George stepped up and everyone fell silent. 

"Thanks for joining us today. Today we'll discuss the world trade system," Many people groaned. He didn't know why it seemed fun. But one look at Thomas and he knew it was bad, as he looked like he wanted to murder George.

Which maybe they had some bad history? Alex shook just idea out of his head. Thomas and George _not_ being friends? The idea was laughable at just many levels. 

He didn't realize that he had been spending too much time in his head as he jumped when something poked him in the side of his ribs. He turned sharply to his right where he saw that it was Aaron, who poked him. He was a bit annoyed but he turned his attention back to the discussion.

Many people were talking, saying the pros and cons of the system, which apparently was a lot. But when his eyes started to glaze over the class, he meets the dark eyes of George, who seemed to be watching more intensely than he ever remembered. He immediately brought his gaze to his lap.

As class started to become more heated, he almost fell as he ran out when the class bell rang. He ignored the calls he got, when he walked faster, pretending he didn't hear Aaron or Thomas calling. Then he remembered. 

He didn't even finish his essay!

 

* * *

 

George Washington was a good man.

Well not entirely, he's been to war, killed men on both sides where he led men to death without a complaint. Yet he made it work. He saw many things, even meet a few Reincarnates in his first life. His first life was full of stress and death. Where he and the other men who killed and fought for independence where he was starting a new nation in the face of Earth, where he was going to serve well and hope that the legacy still survives through the ages.

He knew that he serves well, he gave so much of his life to do the right thing and when death finally greeted him, he went with happiness.

Yet he still came back.

In his second life, he was a girl of all things he could do, in the civil war. He died of the sickness when he was six.  He couldn't remember anything until he was on his deathbed. Then before he could even pass, he was hit with his memories that were locked away, and for a few seconds, George Washington took his last breath again.

Then he came back. Again and Again, as a soldier, chef, and hell he even came back as a writer. Yet no matter what he didn't remember anything until his last moments. He read about that, where someone doesn't know that they were a Reincarnated until their last moments.

Yet he remembered when he was six, he remembered the haze days of the war and the blurry faces of those who fought side by side with. He knew Alexander from the moment he saw him. He couldn't help but smile a little whenever he heard that name. 

 Alexander Hamilton. 

The non-stop man, who flew too high and too close to the sun. He still remembers when he first meets the kid, a young boy barely a man running and fighting with words, using his sharp mind to cut enemies to the ground. And he still remembers when he last saw him. A man barely a boy, fighting with his words falling to the ground. 

He prayed that Alexander would wake up and remember. That he remember who he was because of the boy barely a man wasn't the Alexander that he knew.

Alexander would stay in his spot and fight anyone and anything who disagreed. He would look at them straight in the eye and yell at the top of his lungs.

Yet he did no such thing as instead he ran away and didn't raise his voice one bit. He only prayed that he came back one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 12/12/17


	5. Oh the irony of this chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... I really don't know what to say anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick, like physically, but shit here you go, be grateful children.

Alexander was sick. It wasn't a big thing as most of his life he was in and out of sickness as much. But this was new. Even with his mother taking three jobs, and his father breaking away with the eldest son, well he didn't have time to be sick. So when he woke up this morning with a huge headache, and runny nose, he didn't think much of it as it was fairly common. But it did make his classes a bit more hellish. Creative writing was something he had a passion, something that was so doored deep, that his brother once said it was because of his past life. But he laughs it off because after all, he was a new soul, someone that didn't remember his past life. 

 

And he had no complaints against that. That meant he could make something so big in this life and he would remember it no matter what in his future lives. But he shook his head at the thought. He was Alexander Harrison, not some famous person that could possibly change the world. So he kept to himself for his life, that too meant sitting alone at the table all the way in the corner. There sitting in front of him was three unfinished essays, just waiting to be finished. Yet the pounding in his mind was making it difficult. It felt like someone was hitting his head inside out with fists.

 

So he closed his eyes and tried to soothe his headache. So he naturally didn't see the group of people making their way toward him. That's until he heard the scraping of chairs being pulled around him. He whipped his head around to see John and the other two girls that he meets. He honestly felt far too tired to run so he gave his best smile when they sat down.

 

Which John returned heartwarming and the other two girls also gave their awkward smiles in return. His gaze went to the smaller girl, she was paler than the other girl, maybe they were friends? He didn't catch her make last time, although he didn't want to repeat. 

 

"Alex! How you been? Heard that debate club is going alright," His smile faltered when he heard of his debate team. With all honestly, he hated it. There was nothing particularly wrong with the team, just the players. George always tried to crack a conversation with him even when it was obvious that he didn't want to talk. Aaron too was becoming a bit annoying, always asking about his past, even when he said he said he wasn't comfortable speaking about it. 

 

Then there was Thomas. He always tried to get him to talk in the debate, and try to get him into trouble. But George picked up on what was going on shortly after. 

 

"So not good?" John asked, with the two girls at his side.

 

"W-Well it's not paradise but what can I do? I don't believe I got your name, ma'am," Alex turned the conversation sharply to the girl a question. She looked surprised by his sudden question but gave a soft smile in return.

 

"I'm Lisa, Lisa Skyler," She looks nice enough to be friends with but the girl next to her was more hostile than her. But not like before when she tried to murder him with her glare. 

 

"John here talks all about you, don't you John?" Angelica teased. John then went on a full rant on how he didn't talk about him, with him being in front of him. He wanted to join in, maybe get to know the girls, but he shut the idea down. He didn't want to cause trouble, let alone be the problem. So he stood aside while they had their fun until he looked at the clock. Lord, he was late! He glances at the clock to double check if he was truly late. He never was late like this before! He stood up, almost knocking down the chair behind him. 

 

"I'm late! I'm late, Oh god, um it was a pleasure meeting you two but I have to run now," Before they could get a word out, he ran out like the devil was at his heels.

 

They stood there in a silence until 'Lisa' broke through it. 

 

"He truly doesn't remember then?" Her voice was so soft yet it cracked with emotions that were buried in the past. John shook his head mourning his lost time with him. Angelica stood there as well. She will never admit but she missed the man as much as she hated him. 

 

She missed the man who flew too high and fell too low. She almost died when she first saw him for the first time that day in the cafe. He was just like she remembers, except that he wasn't Alexander Hamilton. 

 

No, that man died and wasn't coming back. And that brought her soul mourning for the years that she pushed him away. She only had one hope to beat his ass, if he remembers then she may beat him up again, even if it happened centuries ago. 

 

 _For now goodbye Alexander Hamilton._  She thought bitterly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alexander sighed for the hundredth time this day as he slid off his bag into the floor. He was horrible so far so he didn't know what would possibly be worse. When I arrived late to the class, Thomas publicly called him out, Aaron tried to supportive but of course, he couldn't do something right as then George too called him out. 

 

Then he couldn't find his words as he was called once more for his opinion, and as always he agreed with the majority even if he didn't. 

 

Now he was safe, because he was in his dorm, and he was pretty sure he would collapse if he took another step. But luckily life gave him an unusual tolerance for sleep. But even sleep fab him a hard time as soon as he slipped into the darkness it exploded with pain and flashes of light. 

 

~~_Al can er Ha_ ~~

7

~~_Ri e up!_ ~~

 

 _WAIT_ ~~_!_ ~~

 

 ~~~~Alex shoots up from his bed, sweat covering his body sickly, and he gave a shallow breath. Of course, this had to happen to him of all people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I just went and re-read everything and there were so many mistakes. I'm so sorry for this souls reading this.
> 
>  
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	6. This Headche ain't normal Alex, go to the doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Alex walked through the hall, the headache got worse as he walked to debate club. And the noise wasn't helping either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took my ages but I'm here! Anyway, just a warning cause Alex won't be the same for this and it'll cause so much angst.

The day was approaching as the sun filled the air. Many students waking up from their little sleep they scrapped from the night. Some don't as those are the unfortunate didn't get any sleep.

Those like Alex.

But unlike most students on campus, he was up all night finishing up on a late essay, or project. No, he didn't have the luxury of that, as he woke up from strange dreams that have been current for the past week. Voices that always became a blur whenever he tries to listen more closely. He always woke up in sweat and pain. Pain for those he didn't remember and pain for the bullet shot that he couldn't possibly remember.

So Alex managed to finish everything that needed finishing. And yet he was still awake. He wouldn't dare to tell anyone about these strange dreams. Becuase who would believe them? He should talk to someone, or even go to a doctor for a headache that he knew that wasn't normal.

But he too can vividly remember what happened to the other kid who he too had these conditions. Back when he was still in the island. He was taken from his home, went to the doctor and was never seen again. Many of the neighborhood kids made up stories about him. How he was discovered to be some mutant monster, or how the government took him away for experiments.

It was silly, he knew that. But he was a child, he grew up with the idea. That if yoy get too sick, you will never be seen again. But he didn't want John or the Sisters to know. As he found out that they had another sister, her name was—

~~_P eggy!_ ~~

Jenny, an amazing artist who is to become a world-class artist. Even if she did paint in cups. But Alexander didn't want to get involved with them. He sighed as he, once again skipped lunch, an unhealthy thing to do mind you, but he could not care right now. A headache was getting warmer and the pain started to morph into different pains. He too was avoiding Aaron, a man he didn't top much, as well as Thomas, and the man that was his shadow James. He knew he was being a major asshole, but it was a dangerous game to play with. Especially if it involved people.

 As Alex stalked through the hall, the headache got worse as he walked into debate club. And the noise wasn't helping either. When he walked into the class, he was some of the few students there. He quickly ducked out of the way and sat down quietly next to the girl he was always partner with. He didn't know her, she didn't know him. It was even as they never saw each other than here. He couldn't place her name, but that didn't matter as they never talked to each other, much less in class.

As students started to walk in, so did Aaron and Thomas. He was a bit surprised to see them together without having their hands on their throats. He avoided the eye contact as they sat in the front as always. Soon the professor walked in, papers in hand and a broad smile on his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you could have skipped but you're here today! Are you ready for today's topic?" The students cheered, something George somehow always managed to get everyone hipped up on the next topic. Something Alex never had the nerve to say.

"The topic on the table: The plan to Sessum state debt, and the establishment of the bank. Thomas, you have the floor," Thomas, far too smug for someone who was debating, looked at Alex straight in the eye and shinned a strange smile. Alex recoiled, something about that made his stomach flip.

"'Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We fought for these ideals, we can agree that the banks are taking from the people. Now, place your bets as to who that benefits, the very government that takes it all," Alex felt his blood boil, something that scared him, for he never got angry at someone who did no wrong to him. So he put his head down to shame saying silent apologizing in his mind. A headache was getting worse.

"The plans would have the government assume state's dept. If New York's in dept- why should Virginia bear it?" Alex got a little lightheaded as he sinks further down in his seat, unaware of the pair of eyes that were watching his every move. Then the pain hit.

_Th ms. t at w s a real nice declaration_

_We cm t the pre et, we r run I g a real n ati on—_

But as soon as the hatred came, so did the remainder of his headache. He grabbed his head once more, tuning out the noise, as he sees Thomas talking. He could hear the words, but they were drowned from the buzz that came from his ears. Alex sat back more in his chair, trying his best to disappear, hoping that someone would have mercy and never notice him. But unfortunately, both the professor and the two students noticed his pain. 

As the class period as coming near the end, the body of students was discussing and simply talking without care. But not Alex of course, he was too busy writing down ideas. When he felt the tapping on his shoulder he was a bit terrified and surprised to see both Aaron and Thomas sitting at each of his sides. Thomas being the obnoxious person he is, simply gave no regard of having the permission to sit near him, while Aaron gave him an apologetic smile. 

"H-Hey Aaron, Thomas, what are you guys doing later?" The first step of small talk is making it all about them, and when they start ranting about something run away with an excuse and an apologetic smile. Thomas, of course, took the bait and threw his arm around his shoulder, not taking in a note the flinch and the surprise breath, but of course, Aaron did. 

"Well, Hamilton we're going to another amazing party, this time at the dorms. Wanna come?" His voice was just as silk as he could make it, but he simply smiled and shook his head. But then the words fully settle, and he looked around the classroom, he didn't know there was a Hamilton in the class, much less that looked remotely like him.

"Um, are you confusing me with someone?" Aaron blinked, as he regards Alex, as Thomas looked at him strangely. 

"No. You're Hamilton," Thomas's voice held an edge as he looked directly at his eyes. The pain from the back of his head was creeping upward, and he was not going to let that take over his studying. 

"Um I'm sorry because I'm Alex, well Alexander Harrison, if you want to be specific," He tried to joke his way out again, a tactic in his head as he was a child. The buzzing started to act on again, as the buzzing started to get dull affect and he could swear that it sounded like voices. The pain was burning him alive, as he could swear his body was fighting some bad bug. 

"Hey you aren't looking so well, do you want me to get you to the nurse?" Aaron asked gently, like dealing with an injured animal. But Alex shook his head and smiled.

"Nah, I'm fine, just a little headache, anyway see you guys later," As he stood up, so did most of the class as the dismissal bell rang. Alex ran again, he didn't want to deal with any of that drama that they were getting at, much be the center of it. He hurried down the halls, crossing and stopping on the student highway. He sighed, the pain and headache turning back.

 

* * *

 

 

Thomas leaned back from his chair, not giving regards to anyone until everyone is sitting and waiting. Once everyone was silent, George walked in papers at and a small grim expression. He sat down with a loud sigh, and everyone knew this was a bad one. "John, Lafayette, Hercules, what's up with Alex? He looked sick in my class."

John, he remembers meeting the man in the history books before he knew of him in person. As the first day of class, he was pulled back from Madison and told he knew a person the goes by the name of Alexander Hamilton. 

John shook his head, "I don't know he doesn't like talking about himself in anything!" John almost growled in frustration. He wanted to pull his hair and simply shake Alexander screaming for him to remember. To remember him, but also the people in the room. Madison- or James - was sitting next to the three sisters whom Alex had recently meet. They all remember at a very early age their formal first life. 

As it was a sign that this was the very last reincarnation they would have. All except for Alexander. He still hasn't remembered a single thing of any of his previous life, yet he showed signs that the old Alexander was there, somewhere buried. It pained to be a constant thing on earth, yet never have there been cases of people fully remembering their previous life, only important moments.

Yet Alexander still hasn't remembered.

Thomas knew they all feared that he would have to be reborn. And again. And again. And when he finally remembered, there would be no one there to greet him. It was a scary thought, as it happened to people that he knew. Like Martha for example.

He remembers how distraught Aaron was when he remembered everything. The war, the fire and the earth stained with blood Including killing Alexander, and the things that went afterward.

 "He seemed. . .  so shy and I dunno weak?" It was Angelica who spoke after John trailed off. Thomas meets her once he believed, back in his first life. But in this one, she was an inspiring singer who was going to finish this college and be famous.

But many frowned when she said that. He understood, for when someone ever described Alexander Hamilton 'shy' and 'weak' weren't the ones. He was a spit-fire writer who against all odds managed to turn the world for him. Alexander Hamilton would run them to the ground if he heard being described like that.

"We should wait for him to remember naturally. We know the risk, but you didn't see how sick he looked at the debate," speaking up, Aaron knew the risks and the consciences of forcing someone to rememeber. 

"He's right, he looks ready to collapse. Tomorrow we'll see how he does and push him to remember, but after that do nothing else. Understood?" George stepped up, not caring for the surprise faces. 

"Now we have to leave him to remember. Even if he doesn't remember, then we can't do anything."

 

 

* * *

 

The pain was the first thing that hit home.

His back struck a wall and he sagged against it, desperately trying to pull air through his seizing lungs. He fought to push the pain aside and struggled vainly to clear his head.

His hearing was stuffed with white noises, people rushing to help, hands pulling and slapping.

His vision was cutting in and out and nothing sounded right, then he caught a clear snippet of an off-tune voice that didn't belong – not at this time, not this place.

_What's your name kid?_

The walls of the stuffy library room kept flickering like an old movie reel clinging to life.

_You have to rise up!_

Dark, beaches, a hurricane eating the dead trees superimposed themselves over the bookcases. Sound slammed into him, long dead voices echoing so loud he was afraid they'd shatter his skull.

_History has its eyes on you._

Alex threw his hands over his ears, trying to block out the deafening roar before it shook him apart. People still holding him down, telling him to calm down 

_The world will never be the same._

A fire spiked in his chest, flooding his veins with barbed wire and acid.

_Rise up!_

He heard someone cry out, but the sound was swallowed up in the cacophony of memories ripping through him.

_Eyes up! Eliza—_

He curled in on himself as the pain grew until it filled his entire being. He could smell his body burning, every nerve ending lit up and screaming under the intense heat that rolled through him. A person in white was running to him. An angel, here to kill him and send him home.

_My name is—_

It seared through him with an unmitigated vengeance, turning his lungs to ash, stealing what little breath he had left.

_You can't remember, can you? I'll give you a chance. It will cost you—_

Dark spots flashed and sparked his vision, melting the images before him until he watched the ground tilt sickeningly and rush up to greet him.

_WAIT!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the foreshadow and the irony of this is too much I swear. 
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	7. Well this well not go as planned, boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex woke to blue images of color, mixed together into a blob. The full pain was still there, and then more pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been some time hasn't it? Well I do hope that you're doing well, because I almost ran out of creativity yet. Hope you enjoy so far!

_There was ink on skin-_

 

_A woman was crying-_

 

_There were bullets flying, like birds all free-_

 

* * *

 

 

Alex woke to blue images of color, mixed together into a blob. The full pain was still there, and then more pain. He was aware of small things, the smell of the hospitals, the rough texture under his fingers, and let's not forget the small beeping next to his ear. He knew the routine, as this wasn't the first time that he was brought in and been put under. But this is the first time that he doesn't know why he was put under. His throat felt as if cut-wires were pushed down his throat, less than his limbs felt heavy. 

That he knew it was a serious matter, as he heard of the island how hospital just gives up on their patients. But he supposed this wasn't the time for small gestures. Alex tried to remember the last thing before collapsing. He was walking somewhere, to be in time for something. But for some reason that felt .. odd. He struggled, but soon enough the vision cleared and then everything clicked into place.

His name is Alex Harrison, and he never did finish his social science essay. But he still didn't know why he was here, of all places.

But as those thoughts were being processed, the nurse came in. She looked surprised to see him, much less awake. So he must've been asleep for some time. Which won't help his studies. But she cleared her throat and looked kindly at him. 

"Hello Alex, my name is Martha and I'll be your nurse for today. Now can you tell me where you are?" Alex looked weirdly at her, as he was thinking that she was insulting his intelligence from asking that.

"I'm in a hospital," Alex replied dryly. 

"Yes, do you know the year?" Alex sighed.

"The year is 2017, and my name is Alexander Harrison," The nurse smiled sadly at him, and for some reason that made his stomach fall into itself. A horrible feeling washed from under his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

_The boat was rocking-_

 

_-A woman was screaming-_

 

_There was a storm coming-_

 

* * *

 

 

"Alex dear, do you know why you're here?" _That's why you're here, isn't it?_ Alex thought sarcastically, but he shook his head. The hospital smell was frosty, his lungs seemed so relieved for it. The bed too seemed wrong for some reason. Strange, he felt strange as he didn't feel like this two seconds ago.

"No I don't ma'am," Alex wanted out. He wanted to see the sky, but that felt wrong too. The sense of rocking and smell of saltwater assaulted his senses. He almost missed the words of the woman again.

"Alexander you had to experience something called Metal Extraction. It means when a person is remembering their previous life, something stopped them from remembering. Do you remember anything?"

 Alexander did feel like he had a dream. Something that he had to remember, something important that he had forgotten. But he dismisses it. He didn't even remember falling asleep!

"No ma'am, I don't even remember being brought here," Alexander was being honest. He could see the trees in the window, down below. For some reason that made his stomach squeeze itself.

"That's okay, as your record says, you're supposed to be a new soul. But because of this incident we were let to believe you're an old soul," Alex felt strange. Funny that's all he been feeling lately. He was not a new soul, he wasn't for if he was then he would have remembered.

"Alex, we think that something tragic happened in your past life that caused this incident. It could happen again, and we strongly advise that you go and see a soul healer. But as we cannot force you to follow this path, are you sure you don't remember anything? Any emotions, or even colors?" He didn't. He shook his head, she seemed satisfied and told him something and she went out of the room.

Alex exhaled, long and slow and shuddering, and tightened his grip on the fabric he was grasping. He felt as if the world was simultaneously pressing down on him and removed from his shoulders, all at once. There was a pressure behind his eyes he did not recognize, a burning in his throat, a constriction in his chest. 

_we were let to believe you're an old soul_

 It was almost taunting. An old soul? He had taken and passed so many tests that were all pouting at him being a new soul. They were uncommon they said. Well, what now? Surely they were wrong. He had even taken test back at home, on his home island. He calmed down, taking deep breaths from the white room. He tried to remember when he had time to go to sit in the ocean and just watch. 

 

* * *

 

_There were waves, hungry-_

 

_People were struggling-_

 

_Rumbled trees, bend wrong-_

 

* * *

 

He didn't know why, but the feeling returned. The constant beating in his chest,  like his heart, didn't go away. Was it possible that he was an old soul? He heard the stories of old souls. People that would usually tell tales of old legends. But as every rule that applied to every soul, they couldn't remember everything. 

It would be too much, too much emotion, too much information. So the old souls were uncommon because most would die of their own hands than be at the mercy of their memories. It was hard enough remembering one's past, but multiple?

 It was one's death wish to be an old soul.

His island called them cursed. Cursed to roam the land for a sin they commit in their past life. He didn't want to be that, the person who is meant to be cursed. There was a man if he remembers correctly. The man always sat alone in the bar whenever he went into town with his mother. Always looking down, a sad look in his eye. 

He asked her why he would always look down. She said at his twenty birthday, he remembered his past life. He was an old soul she said. Meant to look down at his old life, mistakes he couldn't fix. And that day forward he always looked up, no matter what was happening. 

 So he never thought to be an old soul, the people who were cursed from birth. 

 

* * *

 

 

_There was a group of friends, was he part of it?-_

 

_A cry of freedom-_

 

_Ink on paper-_

 

_Rising from their seats-_

 

 

* * *

 

 

He falls back on the pillow. He didn't remember what he was feeling now. There was something though, under his skin that we poking at his mind, almost taunting. He wanted to scratch it, but instead, he closed his eyes and hoped he could forget about everything. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time!
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	8. This is a new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't want to deal with any human contact, even if he knew it was impossible with his phone constantly exploding with massages since he turn it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to not updating in a long time, but my creativity isn't the best condition. Anyway The I hope that you enjoy this so far!

Alex sighs as he dipped the crumbling bread into his tea. Coffee wasn't an option now, giving the tea matter. This brought a situation. It has been two days since he was in the hospital, and they had to give him a few days of recommended rest. Now he was here in some cafe, not too far from the school. He didn't want to deal with any human contact, even if he knew it was impossible with his phone constantly exploding with messages since he turns it on. 

So he ran away and here he was enjoying the few precious minutes of peace. His shoulders were stiff and it hurt to move too fast. He closed his eyes, ignoring the part of his mind that was screaming to go and finish the essays. He really didn't care if he was a bit late, as he always had that stupid voice since birth. Alex took another sip of tea, the feeling of the warmth in his throat.

But of course like everything in his life, nothing goes his way. There was a small scream and soon there was something that threw itself at him. That something turned out to be Lafayette with John and the sisters side by side.

"L-Lafayette? What are you doing here? I thought-" The Frenchman began to rant, going far too fast for his four years of high school education to understand. 

"Dammit Alexander! We were worried like hell! And you just go?!" Angelica growled, her voice dropping the temperature. Her sister too looked ready to scream.

"It was nothing serious, the doctor said-" John swung himself to Alex. He stiffen immediately, he was already drawing the whispers and curious glances from the people around them. Alex cautiously patted his back. 

"Look, guys, it's nothing bad. No permanent damage, I'm fine!" He didn't mean to snap, but the pressure of the curious eyes and the attention weren't doing any favors. He didn't know any of them too personally to tell them such big thing, they were strangers after all. 

"I'm sorry- I really am- but guys don't stress. It's nice that you care, but I'll be fine," Alex sighed as they began to sit down all around him, drawing a chair next to their tables. Alex wanted to disappear into the floor and never return, suddenly the idea of the essays don't look too bad. John rant about how worried they were, speaking for all. Angelia preached about how they should be informed if something like this happens again. Liza was uncharacteristically silent, which he was a bit grateful for. It was amazing how much they cared for someone they only meet twice a week during lunch.

"Yes, I promise that I'll contact you if I get hurt again," Alex tried to get a teasing smile and it worked as John and Angelica laughed. Lafayette went to give Alex some old french luck charm, which he will promise to wear. As John talked about what he had missed, and the gossip of the campus, Liza had yet to say something. Angelica, of course, noticed this before they even talked to Alexander, but right now there was no Alexander, only Alex. 

As they watched the clock go by, they escorted Alex back into their dorms. By 'escort' he meant they were still mother hen about him, but Alex shut the door in their faces when they tried to break into the room. Alex sighed, tomorrow morning would be the last time be would get any time to relax and for that he would be back into the system of essays and papers. He sat caustisoy on the bed, the feeling of the soft bed against his back worked like a miracle as he started to close his eyes and dream of a faraway place from here.

 

* * *

 

"Liza" was sitting down on the bed looking at the picture of her. She would dream for this moment a very long time ago, but the flame was reduced to a small sensation of want. Yes, Alexander was alive during their time, but at a heavy price. He no longers remembers. The man that made Alexander Hamilton, the unstoppable force of a hurricane, the man that would stop until his last breath, was gone. Like if he truly died that day. His memories gone, he would no longer remember how they were, his friends during the war, or even the man that he was once. 

Alex, the shadow of Alexander, wasn't like his previous life. It was understandable but even old souls have some qualities form their own life. And he did. He had gotten frustrated when they kept getting loud about his health like he did. But she knew it wasn't fair for Alex if she continued to chase a shadow of a life it wasn't hers. She was no longer Elizabeth Schuyler, she was now Eliza Skyler. She was in love with another person, not her Alexander. But she still felt close to him, he was the man that was her first love, the father of her children.

That another was ironically the woman who destroyed everything in her first life. She still remembers so vividly the salt tears in her cheeks, and the fire in the candle, wishing death upon him. But now she was in a stall off. He needed to remember, for her to have some closure, to tell how sorry she was and how happy she was. The man was gone, died that day. Now she had a mission, a new one. She and her sister would help the man in the shell grow out of it, bloom into the shine of the attention, instead of shoving it away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The man holding the sword- the screaming, fire- oh god the fire _firefirefirefirefire_ -

Someone is in the water- there was a woman crying holding-

Fire sofy, a candle- ink, and paper

who are you?-a ship in a part, someone pink?

* * *

 

 

Lafayette sighed as Hercules and Kohn talked about their day. But he could see the stress and tension building upon their shoulders, a not so healthy thing to do. He was so ecstatic when he first saw the small man. The same that had a silver tongue that cut off an entire country, and the hands that if they touched any ink would have brought a person down with. He was a walking hurricane. Yet somewhere along the lie, that hurricane started to slow down, and so there was nothing but the shell and destruction that it left behind. The man he considered a brother, was gone. John was most upset when they first encounter the man, they all did.  

Just to find your lost brother, only to find he doesn't remember who you are. It hurt deeper levels that he would admit. But he was a Frenchman, the language of love was his first, and he could see it in John's eyes the first time he played eyes on the man. The faithful meeting in the bar, a cry of freedom and now they were in a world that had changed so much sense. 

But the facts still remained, for he knew the General was scarred too by Alex's blank memories. He was a strong man, but the only man. Aaron, the traitor of the world, was far the most devastated than all of them. For the first years since they all meet, he was often pushed to the shadows. When he saw Alex, he could see some redemption or even some closure. 

But then again, Alexander cannot remember. 

It was a frustrating thing, how he and the old Alexander acted. But he could see the shadow on his face when he could see Alexander. Alex runs away, while Alexander picks every possible fight. So different, yet so similar. Reminds him of a play. His friends mourn the passing of Alexander's death, and the irony that they too are now mourning the rebirth. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time!
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]


	9. This isn't remembering, George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex walked through the campus, his head bowed down as he existed the classroom. He was trying to be as discrete as humanely possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, sorry for not updating as much as I would like but traveling he made it a bit harder to write. Anyway, I do hope that you like this so far.
> 
> [Edited on 12/12/17]

Alex walked through the campus, his head bowed down as he exited the classroom. He was trying to be as discreet as humanly possible. He texted Aaron, telling him he was okay. That there was no need to worry, he meant it. His body still ached and the back of his eyes hurt if he saw too fast to a specific place. But that didn't matter at all, after all, he was the stranger that only knew each other's names.

It was sad to think like that, his mother would often say. In a way she was right, but it was also a good way to look at reality, he mused. Alexander though with all of his might didn't think of. But he was back to his classes. Teachers telling him to be well, and to take his time if needed. 

But he didn't dare slack off, as the only way he even landed himself in this school was his hard work. He can remember when his mother showed him the letter, he was so excited. The nice American neighbors showed him tips and skills to be better off when he went off. Even his elder brother came to say congrats. 

But he was back to his class that he dreaded to come back to.

Debate. 

It wasn't the people, in fact, he was a shame that he didn't like this class. No, it was what he had the problem before. Too much noise. But as the people started to part in, Alex couldn't help but slump down into his chair. The only reason he saw and even enter the damn place was for the extra credit and out of curiosity. And he knew that curiosity killed the cat, but he can't see the satisfaction bringing him back.

"Welcome class, for today we are doing things a little bit different. Last week we discussed all of the pros and cons of the basic idea of debating. Now let's put that to the test!" The students talked excitedly, wondering what the professor had in store for them. Alex couldn't help but had a pool of dread in his stomach. 

"Let's say we had the chance to go back, let's say to the revolutionary era. After we won the war when France asked for our help. We don't know the future events or nothing. Now prepare your case!" George had the strange expression on his face, but Alexander didn't dare to look up from his empty papers.

Around him, students were pairing up and brainstorming their ideas. Alex knew he needed to puck up the strength to ask for join in. But as his luck had it, he didn't need to as he felt someone sit next to him. He was surprised to see Aaron sitting with him.

"So what do you think? Supporting France or backing off?" Alex thought for a second and saw that many were choosing to back up France.

Alex, not wanting to make a fool of himself, smiled. "Supporting France, I think."

Aaron frown, but nodded. But the act didn't sit well on his stomach. Did he choose wrong? He didn't know what to really choose, he wanted to be neutral, not wanting to make a mess.

 "You know this  _is_ a debate, you can make your own choice," Alex looked at Aaron with surprise. He knew that in fact, he wanted to say that he didn't want to back up France. There were so many reasons, but he shook his head. He was being an idiot.

"Now listen, the issue on the table: France is on the verge of war with England  
And do we provide aid and our troops to our French allies or do we stay out of it?  
Remember, the decision on this matter is not subject to congressional approval  
The only person you have to convince is me  
Thomas, you have the floor, sir."  Thomas, standing straighter than normal stood up and began to talk.

"When we were on death’s door when we were needy, the U.S made a promise, we signed a treaty, we needed money and guns and half a chance. Who provided those funds?" Something from his tone and words didn't sit well with his stomach. He wanted to shut the idea down, but kept his head straight.

"In return, they didn’t ask for land. Only a promise that we’d lend a hand  
And stand with them if they fought against oppressors," Thomas threw a knowing look at him, and the recoils. What was happening?

 "I'll remind you that he is not Secretary of State. He knows nothing of loyalty  
Everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation," Many were saying the same things, while few said the opposite. Now the professor stood and started to call on people with different ideas. He ignored the calls until his name was called.

 Alex gave jerk with wide-eyes. Was he being called upon? He looked at Aaron, desperately. Aaron looked at Alex with sympathy and sorrow. 

"I-I completely agree with Mr. Thomas, sir," Alex almost swallowed his tongue when he answered. The professor frowns and had a disbelieving look on his face. So did Thomas and James. He too received a look from Aaron. 

"Well thank you for your opinion," Alex nodded and hurried to sit back down. His heart was already beating and racing in his ears, as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

"You were really nervous, huh?" Alex gave a jerk and to see how Aaron was almost looking at his soul with his eyes. Alex gave a nervous laugh. 

"Well yeah, I don't usually talk. Much less i-in front of people. I don't even like debating," Aaron nodded and the conversation was dropped. Alex gave another sighed as he remembered to write to his mother tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

Aaron watched again as Alexander slipped through the crowd faster than any student. He couldn't get his head around the fact that Alexander- the man that had too much, and lost too much- said those words before they became silent again.

_I don't even like debating._

He couldn't believe it at first, the great Alexander Hamilton didn't _like_ debating? The idea was laughable! Hamilton would seek fights, either physical or in words, and he would always win. But not in this case. 

No, because this wasn't Hamilton, this was Harrison. He could see the similarity, it was so close. Like being at the tip of his tongue. Speaking of debating, he walked closer to the trio in the front. How dare they put Alexander through that? They knew the dangers of forcing someone to remember!

"Thomas, James, what the hell?" Aaron growled as the last of the students were out of their hearing range. Thomas rolled his eyes, before sighing. 

"Look, Burr, we were testing if he wasn't faking it or whatever," Thomas had the decency to wave it off as if it was something to take care of tomorrow. Like if it wasn't important what they just put Alexander through.

"Did you even _see_? This isn't Hamilton, this is _Harrison_ now. Alexander was almost having a panic attack!" Aaron wanted to shake the man. The urge was strong, but his will was stronger. 

"Enough, it was my idea, to begin with," The "Professor" stepped up. Aaron back up mentally, still remembering how they saw him when they first meet in this life. The others- the ones that made no difference- were blurry, gone at most. Another sign that this was their last.

"But please understand, whatever happen to Alex when he reincarnated must've been bad enough for him not to remember. Don't push him," Aaron knew he was asking too much by the way Thomas smirked.

"Oh,  _you_ know all about that huh?" James made a sound behind his throat, while Aaron glared at him. 

"Enough to the two of you, call the others. Tomorrow we'll try again," Aaron sighed in defeat but agreed. He pities Alexander for the day ahead.

 

* * *

 

 

I m̛̕a͘y̷ ̕͜n̵҉o҉͞t́͟ ͟͠l̀i̶̛ve͢ ͜͞t̕o͢ ͠s̷̷͜e͞ę̵ ou͏̧r̸͢͞ ̷g͠͏ļ͞ǫ͝r̵̀͜y̧-̵͜͠"͘͞   
  
҉̢͘"̸̡́I͟ ̴̀̕a͏̢͞m̷ ̡͘n҉ǫ̴t̸͠ t́h̕͞͠r̵̶͡o̴w̧i̴̕n̶͠g͏̴̛ ̀a͢ẁa͜y̴̶̨ m̸̶y͠͝ ͟s̕͏ḩ͟o̕͏t̡̛!"̧̀   
  
̧́"̵́͠W̛͏͡e̸͘͠ ̸̀g͏҉o̕͝t͜ ̀͟͝t҉o͜ s̴̨͢t̵̸͢o̷̢p ͘th͏̷͏ȩ͢͟m ̵an̛͞d̷̸ ̕r̸ó͟b ̛͜t͠͏͡h̨̛͞e̷͢m͟ ͜҉o̢f̕͡ t̨h͞e͠i̧͘r̴̡̕ ͝  
  
̨͞"̴-͠L̢e͘͟͠t̛'̶̛̀ś͢ ̷ś̕͘t̸҉̕ę̵a̡l͜҉ ̢͡t̷he͏̛i̶͜͞r̛ ͏̶c̨̧a͏nơ͝n̴̸̨s͏̷͟"͡͡ 

  
"̶͏H̸͝ist͜o̵̡͞r̷y̶͟ ̷ha͘͟s͢ ͘įt'͟s̕ ̧̧e̢ỳȩś ̧͟o͟n͜ ͜͝͏yo͘-̧͝͠"͟͡ 

 ** _" W A I T! "_**  

 

Alex shot up from his bed, the sheets moist from the sweat of his shaking body as he gripped the sheets that his knuckles turned white. What was the hell happening to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time!


	10. The Sun and the Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were once the brimstone fire that burned through the papers that would set history on its axis. 
> 
> Now you are a human, now you are an Icarus doomed to fall.

He is a Sun.

He is bright and shiny in the dark mud that was the world. His freckles are stars and his eyes are too bright.

You shouldn't fall for him.

But you're an Icarus, and every Icarus needs a Sun.

You meet him by chance in a bar after a conversation you were having with a man about success in New York.

The old wood in the dimly lit tavern seemed to brighten when he sat, becoming as young and light as he was.

You think the most appropriate title for him would be the Sun.

Your fancy words that you have spent years practicing fail; they are stuck in your throat as he turns to look at you.

It's not a surprise you find yourself drawn to him, everyone else in the bar is too. He's a patriot, eager and optimistic for the future; an icon for the revolution. You'd think everyone is waiting to get to know him, his gravitational pull strong enough to make the room spin around him.

You don't know how to feel about him. It's a sin to love another man, but that doesn't matter, because when his mouth moves, your soul dances with his words. You try to figure out the feeling of your chest stirring when you think of him, and your eyes lighting up the moment you saw him. None of the words you can say ever come close to describing how you feel.

He is the bright sunlight in the middle of a sunrise, his enthusiastic eyes lighting up the world. He reminds you of honey, sweet and pure. There were so many ways you could try to capture his essence, yet would never come close to how wonderful he is. He is all the good things in the world to you, and makes you eternally happy.

You are sure he doesn't feel the same way. He is a good Christian, unlike you. You're sure everything makes him happy.

You like him, you really do. You hope to one day bring as big a smile to his face as the grin you were wearing the moment you laid eyes on him.

You knew you were doomed to fall the moment he bought you a round of drinks, his smile contagious; even with foul language in his tongue, it sounds like sweet honey to your ears.

Now, you are doomed to fall, and you aren't quite sure you mind.

__

When the war begins, it isn't a surprise you joined. Long before the war, you had your own battles to win. But this war is not quick and painful, it is long and bloody. The rum in your mouth mixes with blood and sweat as you murder, praying a stray bullet won't kill you.

War is running on empty stomach, and burning with anticipation of wondering if you are going to die today or tomorrow. War is spies and lies, the line between good and bad getting blurred and forgotten.

War is the Hell, that God has cast you in, yet you question whether you care.

Because when rum is in your fingertips, and your lips are loose, there is a fire alight in your soul you can't extinguish.

You are deep in the back of the camp, where the tents are more secure and privacy is spared. You cup his head with your hands, like a holy man caring for the word of God, and his dark lashes flutter as you kiss him for the first time. His lips taste like alcohol and honey, despite it being the war and honey being rationed.

It will take time to know where he hides the honey, but right now the world is blurred and you decide to take advantage of the small moment of peace.

__

You are moved to Washington's staff. Many praise about you, while others curse your very existence.

But that doesn't matter, because General Washington is a good man. Good men are harder to find nowadays. He is fair and there is nothing you wouldn't do to him.

It's harder to find time with your Sun during the war, between writing to Congress and fighting for territory.

But somehow you both manage to make things work. You get cocky, nearly getting caught numerous times. And if sodomites got caught they would be hanged, killed as an example to what happens when people break the Lord's word.

The French arrive and there is some hope in this bleak war.

There are celebrations in their honor, and you wonder what to give your Sun as a present.

__

"I know about you and Laurens."

There is a reason Angelica Schuyler is the most talked about woman in New York City. In a world of men, she is the one who controls gossip and protects her family. And in a world run by men, she had to mold herself to be harsh and cold.

Laws and the Lord's word are behind her.

Her sister means the world to her, and in order to make her happy, Angelica would do anything. Even if you and her have to suffer.

And at the end of the conversation, you cry on the shoulder of your Sun, wondering where the light went, because you are cold and scared, and your lover's grip is too tight and afraid.

__

The church bells are too loud and the space is too big. She is a lovely woman, and maybe if your heart didn't belong to another you would have fought for her.

She looks angelic and innocent, dressed in white and confessing her love. It feels like a sin when you kiss, and it takes all of your will to fake the light blush and move your mouth into a lie.

She is the only happy one here.

__

Your Sun isn't like before.

He is colder and harsher, carrying more scars than when you last saw him. But that doesn't matter because he is there and perhaps your world hasn't changed too much.

His hands are like phantoms on your thighs.

He smiles and the fire in his eyes rekindles yours, as he too fights for justice.

You spend that night writing more than you ever have.

__

You have a son.

You are a father, and in so many ways you are reminded of your lover. When the sun hits Philip's hair, you picture you, your son, and him on some pretty beach, all happy and smiling.

Your son is the only good thing that has come out of this two year Hell.

Eliza isn't bad; she is a lovely woman, and pretending to love her is easy on most days. Except on days when your soul aches from the emptiness, missing the warmth and the security of your Sun.

How can you feel so much when death is all around you?

__

Your Sun is dead.

That doesn't make any sense. No, because he is your Sun and that isn't right because he is a good Christian, God would have no reason to take him so soon. He isn't the dark in the world God should be fighting against.

You don't understand what's happening, don't understand why the basic writing on the paper somehow contains the heaviest words of the English language.

You don't understand your wife's words as you frantically try to remember what you last wrote to him.

You don't remember what the last thing you ever said to him was, and when you last kissed him.

You announce how you have so much work you have to do, in an effort to get away what is happening.

__

The war has ended.

A young man stands waving a white flag, and you wonder if it is a trap.

But men are laying down their arms, and for the first time you look at yourself, and laugh; you shout to the world about your victory.

You have won.

Soldiers are calibrating, wondering if it's a trap too. Men and women are coming out onto the streets, cheering and crying. Scars and battlegrounds seem so far away now, as you embrace your fellow soldiers.

The celebrating doesn't end nor does it dissipate as the night drags out.

Lafayette confronts you while you are secluded, wondering where you could break down and pray to your lover for forgiveness.

"I knew of you and Laurens."

There is this fear, like nothing you have felt in the heat of battlefield, will ever get close to this. This is the fear of almost pissing yourself and praying to the Lord, for the first time in a long time. Because you know what happened last time someone learned your darkest and nastiest secret.

"Don't worry, I came to give my condolences, he was my friend too. And he was the happiest with you."

You break down right then and there.

__

You tell yourself 'write'. Write like your soul is on fire with him, because these words are the closest you will ever feel close to him. Close to kissing the Sun's skin, and the lips of honey.

So write, because your soul is wearing out and wondering if Jefferson is dead or not. You hope he is.

Write, and wonder when they will all leave you alone to your writing. The General came today and you almost fell over when trying to salute him.

Write, and write, and write. Because this is the closest thing to smelling the lavender purple flowers of where his body lay to die.

__

In summer of 1791, you have a visitor.

This would end with a scandal and the breaking point of Eliza.

But this doesn't affect you how many would have thought.

Because her hands are almost like his. Her mouth is sweet, but never as sweet as his Sun. Eliza could never come close, and neither could she, but the mere thoughts and memories of his Sun brought out the fire in his soul.

Think of his hair as the sun filters through, giving it a golden hue. Think of his skin, hard and trained through the battle of blood and rum. Think of his voice, how strong and steady it was whispering the sinful acts to you.

Think and wonder if the ache is going to swallow you whole soon.

Think and pretend, because this snake isn't your Sun. For your sun has been dead for quite some time.

__

The pain of losing your son is almost the same as losing your Sun.

Because he was like your Sun in so many ways. He was bright and energy seemed to flow through him. His smile was the one thing you looked forward to these days, when you weren't writing or debating.

Because when you first laid your eyes on him, your soul was filled with an unnamed substance that filled the room when he laughed.

That substance was something far more than pride and love.

He is dead.

And now you wonder how to grieve.

___

There is blood and pain, but not like the war. For war is more foul words and rum and praying under your sheets that you don't die that day.

This blood isn't from the Brits. No, this blood was drawn from your very first friend as you pay the price for laying down your seeds in history, a history that will judge your bones and soul.

Wonder, if you squint, if that's your Sun.

It's cold and maybe you caught a glimpse of Aaron's horrified face before blood started to swell your insides.

You find the cold to be the most despicable thing this deadbeat world has to offer.

Your Sun— _John, John_ — he is there by your side as the doctor is setting—

_"C'mon! You have to run, not trot!" Your Sun teases, a smile painted on his face that no Da Vinci could ever duplicate. He is glowing—_

John is humming a tune under his breath, and his back is facing you. You hate that the most because you need to see his face, young and whole. Because it's become more difficult to remember his face as the years pass by.

\- " _Let's dance," Your Sun whispers into your ear as you hide your love from those around you. His face is on your shoulder as he hums an old tune and you both lose track of time slow dancing under the heavy_ —

Eliza and Angelica are there. Somehow you find the energy to let go of the bitterness your soul gripped so rigorously these years. Remembering is harder as the pain is becoming harder to fight. Your children are here, so pray for them.

And remember—

— _"So you want to go swimming?" Your Sun teases as you buckle your horse. You roll your eyes, as your Sun is the most—_

Remembering the unsuspected memories that spring past your grasp. Those that are resurfacing at three times the previous rate, and for the first time you can't keep up.

—" _You are the most handsome man in the world," You whisper in love as your Sun glows—_

Remembering the face of your Sun is becoming harder as the years pass by, but the feeling of love and safety that resonates in the room is enough for you. You—

— " _What's your one fear?" Your Sun asks one night, his head resting on your shoulder. It's dark and you can't see his face. You suddenly realize that you can't answer the question. What are you scared of?_ —

John is humming an old tune under his breath, the same tune that his mother sang to him, and the same one he sang to you when you—

Someone is talking and you can't quite makeout their face, or put a name to the face. There is a woman, and you wonder if she's going to take you to Hell.

Clear your head and try to stop the onslaught of memories.

But John is still there, his back turned, and you reach out. Just barely, trying to touch him. But before that happens you feel. . . Something.

' _No_!' Fight tooth and nail, fight for John, he's now far away and you must stay here.

There is a silent snap, and you now feel weightless; you can swear on your mother's grave you hear a woman sobbing.

You fall in the cracks, and as you fall you realize something.

You were in love with him, and you flew too close, and now you're paying the price.

Yet you're not quite sure you're upset about that.

He is the Sun and every Sun needs their Icarus.

__

"Hey, Alexander?" John said one night, as he and you were laying in bed together, hiding from everyone else. You were just sitting and enjoying the other's company. He looked at you, and you noticed how he smelled like honey and gunpowder, how soft his lips were—

You looked up from where you'd been trying to count the freckles on his face, the night sky not coming close to how many there were. You grunted softly and continued counting.

"If I'm the sun, according to you," Your Sun began.

"You are," You corrected, whispering again. People were walking out here but peppering his hand in kisses was far more important. He smiled and shook his head.

But he spoke up again as the light outside tent began to become darker. "If I'm the sun, what does that make you?" He asked quietly. He already knew the answer.

"Icarus," You replied, voice muffled by his warm skin.

"Isn't that sad?" He murmured. You were still close enough to touch him. "Is it?"

"Yeah,'" You mumbled back, softly. He blinked and reached a hand out. You took it, and he pulled you closer.

"We're not gonna be some tragedy," He told you. He kissed your cheek, cupping your face with his soft hands.

"Yeah." You repeated.

How wrong you turned out to be. For every Sun needed their Icarus, and Icarus wasdoomed to fall for flying too high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE ANY OF YOU HEARD OF Inimitable-and-AnOriginal?? BECAUSE IF IT WASN'T FOR THEM THEN THIS STORY WOULD HAVE NEVER SEEN THE LIGHT OF DAY. THEY ARE AMAZING!! DO YOU NEED SOME BETA READING??? CHECK THEM OUT!
> 
> Inimitable-and-AnOriginal
> 
>  
> 
> This turned out much more sadder than I originally intended. But I feel like the point got across. I do hope you forgive me for not update in so long. 
> 
> See you next time!


	11. War isn't like in the movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John attempts to find some peace and quiet with his soul.

Alex is typing in his laptop is the only noise in the quiet and content library. Alex with his wild hair and quiet tired eyes, was seated a few chairs away writing away. When wasn't he?

John hates him for it. 

Hates how those fingers, those so so similar to those he dreams about. He hates these thoughts, every little reminder of what he had been searching for. For what he died for to see these little remainder tell him what he lost.

He let his eyes flutter closed for just a few moments, the sound of typing and the smell of paper filling the room as he tried to stop thinking about the man who was too close yet so far. He tries to forget about the shell, about everything, even for a few moments.

( _It never works._ )

_Alexander is sitting on some makeshift table from what the army could spare. The pen on paper sounds are echoing around the tent, the background noise of men and horses could wait as he admired the man before him._

The fingers remind him of the ghost fingers that would run through his hair. That's what he hated. How he hates himself for blaming Alex for something he doesn't even remember. 

His eyes become scratchy, and he can't breath well, his throat is closing. He lets his head fall to the cool table, cooling the hot mess his head is spinning in. It feels like being buried alive. Wet, pinching and filling his lungs, choking on memories. But he doesn't have the luxury to count his losses, to sit down and grieve. 

Not now. 

 _He remembers. The sky was_ bright _, bright with mid-day heat and rays. He coughed and spat, hacking up the blood, and heaving lungful after lungful of air. It wasn't working. He remembers seeing around him the purple flowers having such contrast to blood._

_The war zone is ike a desolate field after a raging storm— absolutely quiet, except the buzz in the air, the residual power shaking up the world around it._

It makes John's teeth clatter, and his spine tingle. 

 _But there is Alexander Hamilton in the middle of this mess. Anything revolving around that man is fast paste rapid no one could put out._ _He is like a symphony of passion and silver quick words. His fingers tips are made of ink as they command his very soul to dance around him._

 "Are you okay?" The timid words hung in the air sounding so uncertain. That brought his head up from his gloomy thoughts. 

 "Oh! I'm, uh, I'm fine. Sorry if I," He cough nervously into his fist, "If I look dumb. Right now."

 Butterflies flutter around his stomach, _even after all these years you never learn do you, boy?_

Alex looks genuinely surprise its almost comical. It makes him wonder if his lousy big mouth got him again, but when Alex smiles the Sun struck in the right place it backslashes him seeing how stunning he still looks.

"Hey, I was wondering," _This is dangerously dumb, but he'll be damn if he doesn't try,_ "If you wanted to come and hang out with me and the squad tomorrow?"

He blurted that out so fast he even wonders if Alex even hear him out. But the shy blush in his cheeks and the soft smile made his knees weak. 

"Uh, yeah. I would like to do that." 

John smiled, yeah it was worth it. Alex wasn't Alexander.

Because here he is, centuries later, running to this man that's way more than  _just that_ , seeing the man be more than Alexander ever was in some ways. 

"Hey John!" Hercules and Lafayette came a trolling down, even with the glare of the librarian down their neck. Now that too was a happy sight.

"Hey guys, Alex is coming with us tomorrow to the fair! The few studenta that were there shot him a glare at his loud announcement, but it worth it seeing their faces.

"Are you sure you're feeling good enough for that Alex, dear?" Lafayette had a point. It has been barely a week since he collapsed. 

A week full of anxiety and stress. Just the usual.

Alex sat back and fiddled with his sleeve, "Oh yeah. I'm okay."

That was it. The hook that reminded him this Alex, this boy in front of him is not Alexander. Alexander would humbly make a scene and be as melodramatic as possible. This Alex is a closet concrete wall of nothing. 

Nothing can pass through it or out. But he'll be damn to hell if he doesn't even try.

Alexander would do the same.

* * *

 

Dark eyes open as he realises that there is no noise; that of the world no longer trigger him awake. There is noise, background noise of pen scratching and the air smell damp and of ink.

The world is tilting, so trapped and he doesn't know what is happening. 

All he knows is the awful feeling that is sinking into his chest. That there is a demon with a grip on his intestines and the blood rushing into his head is too loud. 

He wants to throw up, but the feeling above his throat stops him. 

There is a man.

A man with a pen, his back hunched and piles of stacks of paper and parchment all littered around him. So much they are overflowing. 

And he looks into the yellow sky and the gut wrenching feeling is bringing him to his feet. He feels like he's being buried alive. Something's at his lungs pitching and filling them he cant breathe. screams, what else to do?

Because everything hurts. _Hurts. Hurry because I'm drowing._

He gasps for air, there is no water pressuring his throat's walls, and promptly throws up.

There is tears and his skin feels all clampy and sticky. He hates this, is he sick? 

What is happening, why are his lungs expanding but they aren't stopping? He's trying to breathe but his chest can't catch up.

His shaking hand somehow tumbles through the desk making a mess, but the light blinds him as his phone's reading his the time.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

 His momma told him if he was ever sick to go down the dirt road and tell the doctor living in a shack that smells of burned herbs. He wonders how he remembers that when he can barely remember what day it is.

God, he has even aged to be married and here he is dying. Is he dying?

Everything is too confusing but he holds that ping of wrongness and stands up to see what the world saw. He wants to go to sleep again.

Alex could barely see his reflection but judging by what he was being showned, he looks like death.

He needs to stand up and take a shower, leave and be all nice and pretty for the world.

But by the thought he simply gets up and tuck himself in the bed. Close your eyes and try to--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for not updating like I usually do, but I wanted to continue the little thing we had going on with the last chapter to tie it up with the other story in this series.
> 
> See you next time I update!


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